Inside Yu Huai's disquietingly grand hall where a chilly wind and evil aura reigned over everything, Wu Qi and Yu He sat shoulder to shoulder in front of Yu Huai, with the one hundred and eight coffins placed not far away from them. Beneath each of them was a hassock made of Spirit-returning Grass. From time to time, bits of energy would flow into Wu Qi's body from the hassock. It was the favorite thing of the Oracles. The energy produced by the Spirit-returning Grass could effectively slow down the aging of their bodies, as well as counteract the erosive effect due to the evil aura the ghosts and deities had caused to their bodies.
Wu Qi stared blankly at Yu Huai. A gray ball of flame, about the size of a human head, floated in front of him. A few pale bones were slowly melting in the cold flame. Every now and then, Yu Huai would reach his skeletal hand into the flame, gently stroking the bones with his finger to gradually mold them into the shape of little puppets.
